


goodbyes are not the end; it means i’ll miss you until we meet again

by melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s04e08 Silence in the Library, Episode: s07e14 The Name of the Doctor, F/F, F/M, Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, go ahead and try, in which they have emotional discussions because this is fanfic, spacewives, ya’ll can pry my lesbian space lovers out of my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 10:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme/pseuds/melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme
Summary: 3 Goodbyes and 1 Hello





	goodbyes are not the end; it means i’ll miss you until we meet again

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Cassie for reading this over for me and then messaging me in the morning with simply the words ‘i hate you’.
> 
> Also to those of you who follow me on tumblr, the twelve/river part might be a teeny weeny bit familiar.

**_One_ **

The first time he says goodbye to her, she isn’t there anymore. It’s really her goodbye to him, he thinks - but her words and her tears dig a hole in his hearts that he hasn’t been able to fill since. 

She’s important. That much is obvious. So many people are in this universe, across galaxies and to the ends of existence. But she - she’s important to him in a way no one else has been since Gallifrey. Because out of so many people who have died in front of him, died  _for_ him, none of them have ever come back to haunt him the way River Song does; with a smirk and a strut and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He stares a hole into her diary. All that’s left of a woman he just met but who somehow knew him better than anyone. A book full of adventures he knows he’ll have one day - adventures with River Song. His hearts clench tightly in his chest. He knows it will happen. It has to happen. He promised her as much. 

He will watch time take River Song away from him the way he watched her burn  in front of him. 

**_Two_ **

The second time he says goodbye to her -  _really_ says goodbye to her - she isn’ t there anymore. Where there should be flesh and heart and  _matter_ , all he can feel is coldness. Cold not-skin, cold not-breaths and cold, cold touches.

But it’ s her. And it’s  been so long.

He doesn’ t care.

He doesn’t want the first time he feels her in decades to be a touch filled with anger, so he grabs her hand before it connects with his face and pulls her close. As his hand closes around her arm he thinks anything, absolutely  _anything_ could happen right now and he wouldn’ t give a damn. 

River is here, and he’ll probably never see her again. 

Words. Words never mattered much to them - to the woman who grew up in a battlefield full of liars and the man who uses his mouth to manipulate - but nothing he’ s ever said, nothing he will ever say is as important as what she wants to hear. 

“You are always here to me. And I always listen. And I can  _always_ see you, ”  he whispers.

His grip around her arms is tight and he wonders if she can feel it - his nails digging into her, his palm sweat on her cold skin. He wonders if she can feel how every cell in his body is itching to pull her near - to pull her into him, to give her his breath and his soul and his hearts. He wonders if she can feel how desperate he is for her to be real, actually, properly real -  _alive_.

“Then why didn’t you speak to me?”  she asks tearfully.

_Oh, River,_ he thinks. How could he speak to her like this? After knowing that he’ s losing her, after knowing he’s already lost her? How could he ever bear to speak to her when she isn’ t truly here?

 _I ’_ _m_ _sorry_ , he thinks. Because it hurts. It hurts to acknowledge that she’s _there_ , not dead enough and yet not really alive. It hurts because he left her that way. His wife. His River. 

“ Because I thought it would hurt to much. ”

It did. It does. It _hurts_ , to speak to her this way when he can’t feel her breath or her touch, when she can’t stay - what’s the point? It will be their last. The end of the Doctor and River Song. 

“I believe I could’ ve coped.”

He’s a stupid, selfish old man. He knows that, staring into the tear-filled eyes of his wife. River has always been the bett er one of them, no matter what. She would’ve done anything to come back to him again - she would’ve torn the universe apart. And yet here he is. Always taking from her, never giving back. 

“No. Because I thought it would hurt  _me,”_ he confessed softly, his eyes moving over her face - memorizing her. If there’s one thing he’ll  _never_ allow himself to forget, it’ s River Song.  “And I was right.”

He cups her face and swoops down for a kiss - over a century of marriage to his wife, but he’ll never, ever get tired of kissing her. It isn’t quite the same, but it doesn’t matter. His lips move over hers with a desperation he can’t begin to fathom.

The ghost of her touch pulls him in deeper, makes him linger longer, makes him want to pour his breath into her lungs. He just manages to reign himself in, remind himself that this is temporary. She cannot stay, and neither can he.  

He knows whatever her gives her will never, ever make him worthy of her love, so he doesn’t try to hold back. It’s his chance, his one last chance to give her everything, the way he should’ve since the start. He was an utter idiot wasting time resisting her when he knew they were inevitable. 

So he gives her everything. He gives her all the love he has, but it isn’t enough; nothing will ever be enough. He can still feel his hearts pounding in his chest. He can feel  _her_ in his hearts, alive the way she never will be again. 

Their lips part, but he isn’t done yet - he presses his face to hers once more, softer, gentler, slower. They’ve never had the time to go slow before. 

He finally - _finally_ pulls away and but stays close, cradling her face in his hands and brushing his thumb over her cheek.  

“You are an echo, River,” he says to her softly, even as he feels tears on her cheeks. She cannot be here, she cannot stay - he reminds himself this. “Like Clara, like all of us in the end. My fault, I know. But you should have faded by now.” 

She smiles tearfully. “It’s hard to leave when you haven’t said goodbye.” 

“Then tell me, because I don’t know,”  he almost begs. He’s been preparing for this moment for centuries but he still isn’t ready. He never will be ready to say goodbye to his wife. But if it’s what she needs to hear to finally be at ease, then he’ll do it. This one thing - for River.  “ How do I say it? ”

“There’s only one way I’d accept,”she tells him. Her face shines in the light of his timestream and he thinks it’s fitting - that the last time he’ll ever see River Song, she’s standing in the middle of his life, where he ends and where he begins.  “If you ever loved me, say it like you’re going to come back.”

_If you ever loved me -_

He takes a step back from her. No matter how much he wants to, he can’t be near her when he says it. He’ll do everything to keep her here, even for a little while longer - he’s sure of that. Clara doesn’t deserve to die in his timestream.

He looks up at her with a small smile. Of course, River would never allow him to truly say goodbye. She wouldn’ t do that to either of them.

_\- say it like you’re going to come back._

“Well then,”  he steps back again, his fringe falling over his eyes even as they stay locked to hers.  “See you around, Professor River Song.”

_I love you._

“Till the next time, Doctor.”  She smiles.

 _I love you too._  

She fades a while after, and takes his hearts with her. 

**_Three_ **

Their house is bathed in the golden light of sunrise. The Doctor watches his wife hold back tears as she looks around the bedroom, at the furniture, the windows and the pictures lining the walls. Anywhere but him. 

He doesn’t blame her. Twenty-four years ends today and their last night had been spent tearfully making love in their bed, desperate to make every ticking second count. Now, her bags are on the foot of their bed and her vortex manipulator around her wrist, but she can’t bring herself to press the button. 

He wonders if it would’ve been easier to let her leave in the middle of the night - she was planning to, he knew, but he’d stopped her before she could. She’d thought it would’ve hurt less.

How could more time spent with her ever hurt more than waking up alone? 

“River,”  he whispers hoarsely, reaching for her. She flinches at the sounds of his voice, a painful reminder of who she’s leaving behind.

“I don’t - I don’t want to leave.” She looks up at him, her eyes filled with tears as she grips the bedsheets tightly in her hand. “I don’t know if I can, Doctor.” 

Her voice trembles and a tear escapes her eye but she doesn’t turn away - in twenty-four years, she’s never turned away when she cries. Still, watching his wife shed tears has never been more difficult than it is now.

He reaches for her across the bed, pulling her into his arms. He tries not to think about how this could actually be the last time he ever holds her. He’s afraid that if he gives it too much thought he’ll never be able to let her go.

“I’m sorry, River. ” She buries her face into his neck and lets a few tears fall as he pulls her closer.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more than this. ”

Tears fall into her hair and he barely registers the way they’re both shaking, simultaneously trying not to completely break down in front of each other. They’re never leaving Darillium if that happens.

“Doctor, you’ve -”  She pulls away from the hug to look up at him. He cups her face, an automatic reaction now - twenty-four years of wiping her tears away for her. She takes a shaky breath and more tears escape as she places her hands over his hearts and says,  “You’ve given me _everything_. ”

But he shakes his head. “Not everything. Not yet.”  He moves his face closer to hers, their foreheads touching.  “There wasn’t enough time to give you everything.”

“There never is,” she whispers, her voice cracking a little as another tear leaves her eye.

“I’ve still got some more to give.”  He slides his hand down her face and holds hers, still placed over his chest. He hopes she can feel his heart beating, pounding love for her every second.

She gives him a watery smile. “Keep it.”  She curls her fingers against his chest, gripping his shirt tightly. “You might need it someday.”

He nods, tears sliding down his cheeks at a rapid pace now. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, sure that if he does, the dam will burst. 

“Darling, you have to know that you - ”  Her breath hitches as she chokes on a sob. Her grip on his shirt tightens even more as she swallows her tears and continues shakily, “You made me so,  _so_ happy. Every day.”

He swoops down for a kiss, pressing his lips to hers urgently. Their mouths meet in a messy kiss, tongues stroking and teeth biting and neither of them can bring themselves to slow down long enough to do it properly. He can feel the tears on her face, can feel the sadness radiating off her mind even without opening a connection between them. He thinks she can feel the same thing from him, too. 

They pant heavily when they part, a sad smile taking over her face as she cups his cheeks in her delicate hands and kisses his tears away. He closes his eyes, determined to always remember how being loved by the most fearless woman in the universe feels like.

She presses one last, lingering kiss to his lips and pulls away completely, standing up and putting on her shoes.

“ I should go. ”

He doesn’t say anything. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge that their time is up, can’t bring himself to encourage  her to leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to  take you home?”  he asks one last time, hoping vainly that her answer will change, but it doesn’t. He can tell the moment she swivels to face him again.

“You know I can’t,” she whispers sadly, looking back down and letting her fingers curl tightly onto the handle of her bag. “I’d never let you leave.” 

He wants to disagree, wants to tell her that they’re both strong enough to do it, but even in his own head, it sounds like a lie. He’d rather watch her leave than leave her behind, even if it meant forgoing a few extra hours together.

She gathers her bags and just stares at him for a moment. Her husband, watching her leave with a sort of bittersweet smile on his face.

“I love you,”  she tells him, because she wants those words to be the last thing he hears from her. “So much, Doctor.”

She doesn’ t move towards him, maintaining the few feet of distance between them because she knows that is she closes the gap there’ s no way she could ever bring herself to leave his arms. He seems to understand because he doesn’ t approach her either, he just smiles like he’s  lost her already.

“I love you too, River Song,”  he says softly, and it takes everything in him not to beg her to stay, not to grab her and haul her into his arms - not to take her hands and lock her in the Tardis. “Always remember that, sweetheart.”

Her hands shake, but her eyes never leave his as she presses the button on her vortex manipulator and disappears.

Nothing - not the loss of a thousand cherished friendships, not losing his home planet, not watching her die right in front of him the day he met her - could’ ve ever prepared him for losing River Song.

***

Traveling with the Doctor is an adventure in itself. She never seems to be sure where she’s going, only ever landing wherever her ship takes her and shrugging as if to say  ‘Well, alright then!’.

Yaz has spent nearly a month on the Tardis, and she has seen all sorts of things in that time - she’s seen the past and the future, aliens and homicidal potatoes. She’s seen Ryan climbing a ladder as if it’s second nature to him and she’s seen Graham running faster than would be considered normal for a man of his age. She’s seen them _bond_.  

She’s fairly sure she’s seen more than she hasn’t, and yet she finds herself shell-shocked as she watches a feminine figure - blonde, but  definitely not the Doctor; much curvier - move about the console, pulling levers and pressing buttons with an ease that even the Doctor hasn’t mastered.

Yaz freezes at the top of the stairs, careful not to make a sound as she watches curly hair bounce in the dim light of the spaceship with every step the intruder takes. She squints her eyes but the figure’s face is obscured by the mane of blonde hair. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, Doctor,”  the woman says suddenly, her voice coloured with amusement. Yaz jumps, her heart beating fast in her chest.  “You’ve never really been good at sneaking up on me, sweetie.”

The woman turns and Yaz catches piercing eyes first. White robes cover most of her golden skin, and Yaz almost relaxes until she spots a blaster in the woman’ s pocket. 

“Who are you?”  Yaz asks, much braver than she feels. She eyes the gun carefully before turning back to the lady’s face. 

The lady raises an eyebrow, her eyes sweeping over Yaz’s body before clicking her tongue. “My, my, he _does_ like them young, doesn ’t he? Apologies. I thought you were the Doctor. My senses aren’t quite what they used to be, I’m afraid. Still cooking.” 

“How did you get in here?”  Yaz asks, belatedly remembering one tiny little detail.  “We’re in the middle of space!”

The lady smirks, turning back to the console.  “I know.”

Yaz sighs exasperatedly. Clearly, this woman will not be giving her any answers. She approaches cautiously, watching carefully as the stranger moves around the console like a dancer doing a practiced choreograph.

“Where  _is_ my husband, by the way? ”  the intruder asks, as she works the levers.  “The Doctor gets ever so angry if I pop in and leave without saying hello.”

“The Doctor’s in the kitchen, experimenting - something about new tastebuds.” Yaz frowns, following closely behind the stranger. Somehow - she doesn’t know exactly - she knows that this odd woman who carries a gun and broke into a spaceship parked in the middle of space can be trusted. She speaks of the Doctor like someone who’s known her a long time - like an old friend. But wait a minute, did she just - “I’m sorry - did you just say _husband_? Do you mean to say that the Doctor is your _husband_? ” 

The stranger lets a tinkle of laughter out, but she doesn’t bother to turn around as she replies,  “More likely than you think.”

Yaz’s frown deepens as she crosses her arms and shakes her head.  “It...  _really_ isn’ t. Unless she hasn’t told me something.”

The stranger turns towards her the exact same moment the Doctor appears in the console room, skidding across the hallway and leaping off the steps. “River!” she yells enthusiastically. 

Yaz has never seen a bigger smile on the Doctor’ s face. She grins wid ely, her smile so bright and her face shining with joy as she runs towards River and skids to a halt two centimeter s away from her.

Yaz can’t see the Doctor’s face but River’s is in full view - and though two seconds ago her expression had been one of confusion and bewilderment, her eyes soften the longer she scrutinises the Doctor’s features. After a few moments, River’s expression has melted into a loving smile of someone who knows the Doctor better than anyone. 

“Hello, sweetie,” River says softly. She reaches for the Doctor’s face, her fingers moving delicately along her cheekbone and touching the ends of her blonde bob. “You’ve changed.” 

The Doctor tilts her head towards River’s touch.  “Do you like it?”

River grins. “Perfect, Doctor.” 

Yaz tries to camouflage herself, growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer the Doctor and River continue to gaze at each other in wonder. She’ s fairly sure that the moment is meant to be private, just between them - they certainly seem to have forgotten her presence, in any rate. Yaz turns, taking one step up carefully so she isn’ t heard.

“Yaz,” the Doctor calls out happily. Yaz turns slowly, a sheepish grin on her face. Somehow, in the second that she’s turned, the Doctor had managed to link hands with River. “Meet Professor River Song.” She pauses, turning to River and squeezing her wife’s hand warmly. “My wife.” 

The proud way the Doctor introduces River makes Yaz smile a little. “You never told me you were married, Doctor.” Yaz says, approaching the couple slowly. 

“Well, that’s because I didn’t think I’d ever- ” the Doctor cuts herself off, turning to River with a smile that’s dimmed somewhat. “Spoilers. When did you last see me, by the way?” 

River smiles softly.  “The Library.”

A silence falls over the room as Yaz watches both of them, not quite understanding what’ s happening. The Doctor’s mouth is wide open in shock, and River’s smile is wide and knowing. 

Before Yaz can fully process what’ s happening, the Doctor pulls River down for a passionate kiss. Yaz cringes as hands start roaming and both of them start to moan noisily, choosing instead to stare down safely at her shoes.

They finally break apart after a few long, _long_ moments, and Yaz sighs gratefully, looking up - only to cringe harder than before when she sees the Doctor ’s hand on River’s arse, _caressing_.  

“You are _brilliant_ , River Song,” the Doctor whispers. “Utterly brilliant.” She cups River’s cheek gently. “I have missed you, wife.” 

“Why do you think I had to get out of there?”  River asks, tilting her head down to press a sound kiss to the Doctor’s forehead.  “I missed you too - ”  River grins - “ _wife._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Feels so good to post something that isn’t smut for once lol.
> 
> Also i know i didn’t get into the whole ‘how River escaped the Library’ thing BUT the important thing is that Thirteen and River are together, right? Heheheheheeheheheh


End file.
